


His Dream

by CherryBlossomLesbian



Series: Prompt Fills [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: American Sign Language, Artist Steve Rogers, Blood, Bucky is mentioned a lot but never appears, De-Serumed Steve Rogers, Gen, Hospitals, Nausea, Needles, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Prompt Fill, Seasonal Allergies, during the bucky hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBlossomLesbian/pseuds/CherryBlossomLesbian
Summary: As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze."Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic.""Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow."How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."Realization clicked in Sam's head."The gas de-serumed you."Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Series: Prompt Fills [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978546
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	His Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I promised myself these prompt fills would only be 1k-2k words, but now this is 4.5k so uh...whoops? 
> 
> Prompt:  
> *sneeze* "sorry, allergies."
> 
> [Original prompt post](https://reaperofdriftingsouls.tumblr.com/post/631799591958904832/autumnhalloween-sentence-starters)
> 
> Warnings: Needles (IVs), blood, and hospital. There's a mention of an asthma attack but it never happens.
> 
> There's also a little bit of ASL! I'm hard of hearing myself so I wanted a bit of ASL in here. When characters are signing it's marked with a * instead of a quotation mark.

"I'm fine, Sam." 

Despite Steve's incessant denial, Sam did not seem persuaded. 

"Look, you were the only one on the team who got hit by the gas, right?" He crossed his arms, and Steve shrugged as he brushed tiny pellets of sand off the shoulders of his tac suit. 

The mission had been a simple raid of a HYDRA base, with Natasha grabbing the intel they needed from the main hub while Sam and Steve fought anybody who tried to stop her. 

During one of the fights, one of the scientists had flung what looked like a stinkbomb in front of Steve, and it exploded into bright blue clouds of gas, clouding his vision and making him cough as he was forced to inhale the clouds in his face. 

He bounced back quickly from it. Kept fighting until Natasha got the required information and then they were out of there. 

Steve shouldn't even have told Sam about the gas. Now he's gonna pester him to get it checked out, when Steve's pretty sure it didn't do anything at all. 

"Yes, I was the only one, and I'm fine." He repeated again, voice staying indignant. 

"What if it's some deadly poison?" Sam questioned, and Steve just shook his head. 

"The serum will take care of that." 

"What if it's a disease?" 

"The serum keeps me from getting sick." Steve reminded. 

"Yeah, but you could still be a carrier of an illness and give it to your non-superpowered friends." Sam pointed out. "You could spread it to us from coughing, or sneezing-" 

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic." 

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow. 

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum." 

Realization clicked in Sam's head. 

"The gas de-serumed you." 

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly. 

~~~~~~~

They went to see Bruce, who decided the first course of action was to take blood and compare it to previous blood tests Steve had had. 

He was immediately enthralled with the very concept that Steve's serum could be made dormant. He was even more engrossed with the fact that Steve hadn't shrunk down to his pre-serum height and stature, but the super strength and super immunity were all gone. 

"I'll call it a mutation for now." Bruce said as he looked into the microscope on the lab table, a slide attached to the viewing stand with a drop of Steve's blood on it. "It's a medically induced mutation instead of a genetic, but a mutation all the same, so I'll follow some mutation research findings in determining what exactly happened here." 

Steve nodded, before feeling another sneeze coming. He held his left hand out from where he was sitting on the lab countertop, and Sam placed a tissue in his hand. Steve switched the tissue to his right hand, sneezed into it, and threw it in the trash can next to him. Pretty good system. Sam gives him the tissue, he uses it (switching hands so no germs get on the left hand), and then tosses it. 

Efficient, effective, and nearly effortless. 

"The mutation should began to inch further and further away from being quiescent-" 

"English, doc." Sam cut Bruce off. 

"Right, sorry. Special cells are sleeping, they will most likely wake up in a few days." Bruce responded with a roll of his eyes, and Steve laughed a little, triggering a sneeze he had to hide in his elbow. 

"About his allergies…" Bruce saw the opportunity to segway into his next topic and took it. "I think it would be really good to get him into a long-term care room in the hospital." 

"No, no, absolutely not." Steve protested fervently, and Sam put a hand on his wrist in an attempt to calm him. 

"Hold on, Steve, let science man speak." Sam said in a gentle voice. "Continue, Bruce, please." 

The scientist nodded. "I'm only saying a long-term room as I could have nurses from the medical bay monitor you there. It's also cozier. Most of the rooms have a window and paintings on the walls that aren't of anatomical diagrams. It feels more like home, while you're still getting care. You'll likely only be there for a few days, at most. They'll give you strong IV antihistamines, curb those allergies, and an immune-boosting solution. The room will be hypoallergenic with no dust buildup. You'll be in the presence of medical professionals in case of an asthma attack or any other medical emergency." Bruce shrugged. "You don't have to, of course. I just think it's the best and most logical thing to do right now." 

Steve wanted to continue to say no, but he already felt horrible. He couldn't imagine if he actually caught a cold or something worse when he was like this. The mere thought of antihistamines, something that would help the tickle in his throat that is beginning to grow red and sore, is enough to make him nod his head. 

Bruce shot him a big, toothy smile. "Great, I'll go get everything set up, you can go pack. You can wear your regular clothes, but I recommend sweaters and sweatpants." 

"Thanks, doc." Sam said as he and Steve began to leave to pack. 

~~~~~~

With two sweatshirts, five sweaters, seven pairs of sweatpants and eight pairs of fuzzy socks, Steve's clothes bag was packed under the rule of planning for the worst. He may only be there a few nights max, but he liked to be safe rather than sorry when it came to packing. 

Sam thought that was a funny motto for Steve to say, since he thinks jumping out of airplanes with no parachute is an acceptable thing to do. 

He also packed a sketchpad, multiple pencils and a sharpener, blending sticks, erasers, colored pencils, watercolors, and a brush. If he was going to be in the hospital, he might as well get some drawing done.

When he left his room with a duffel bag in his hand, a backpack slung over his shoulder, and a packet of travel tissue clenched tightly in his fist, he was surprised to see Sam standing in the hallway waiting for him with a duffel bag of his own. 

"Why did you have to pack?" Steve asked as he removed a tissue from the pack and wiped his nose. His sinuses were beginning to take the blunt of the reaction now, his nose dripping almost consistently. 

"You think I'm leaving you in the hospital alone? I packed clothes, phone charges and my laptop." Sam patted the duffle bag that was hanging from a cross-body strap. 

Steve shook a little at Sam's words. 

Ever since Bucky fell, he wasn't sure if there was anybody who actually cared about him. And that faith fell further and further down when he saw Bucky, eyes glossed over and transfixed on a mission. No feelings, no emotions, just a hollow shell. 

And seeing Bucky like that made Steve doubt if there was any good in the world. 

But now, with Sam telling him genuinely that he wasn't going to leave him alone, he was going to stay by Steve's side through the entire thing and beyond...he felt so cared for. It was the feeling of knowing people actually care about you as a person, not just as a symbol. 

The feeling then turned into a coughing fit, and Steve had to grip onto the wooden doorframe of his room to stay upright. 

Sam was at his side, taking Steve's duffel bag from his hands to reduce the stress on his body and keeping a grounding hand on his shoulder until the hacking coughs went away. 

"You okay?" Sam asked after a cough didn't come for a few minutes. 

"Yeah. Thanks." Steve's knees were still unsteady, but he managed to stand up on his own. He reached out to grab the duffel bag back from Sam, but the other man's hand pulled back so he couldn't reach. 

"I'm carrying this now. You focus on keeping your sneezes in check." Sam insisted, and Steve didn't have a choice but to nod. At least he still had all his art supplies on his person, the duffel just had his clothes. 

"Alright, let's go. Sooner we get to the hospital, sooner I won't be feeling like death." Steve said as he began to walk down the hallway of the compound, Sam following closely behind. 

~~~~~~~

The hospital room was...nice. 

It had a large window on the wall opposite to the door with navy blue curtains pulled to the side so light could flood the room. 

The bed looked more like a hotel twin bed than a normal hospital bed, with clean cream colored sheets and a fluffy yellow blanket folded nicely on the end. There was one large pillow that spanned the entire width of the bed and two smaller ones that were half the total width. There were bed railings on the side, but they were pulled down and largely out of sight. The top part was reclined halfway up, so he could be in a half-sitting, half-laying down position. 

There was an overbed table in the corner of the room, and a nightstand on the side of the bed. There was a chair with cushions on the wall across from the bed and a corner table next to the chair. 

It was cozy. 

Steve still didn't like it. It looked normal now, but soon they'd have him hooked up on a bunch of machines and it'd obviously be a hospital room again. 

Sam put the duffel bags next to the chair, and Steve put his backpack on the nightstand. Steve had just gotten in the bed, draping the blanket haphazardly on his lap, when Dr. Cho entered. 

"Serum problems, Captain Rogers?" She asked as she entered the room, but Steve knew she already knew the answer. 

"He's being stubborn." Sam interjected when Steve didn't respond. 

"I'm not!" Steve yelled back, and Sam snickered. 

Dr. Cho shook her head. "Regardless of stubbornness, I'm only here for a moment to order medications for you. I don't know if Doctor Banner discussed this with you, but IV antihistamines plus an immunity-boosting medication through an IV is what I'm recommending. Just a day for now, but if the mutation is still completely dormant, we'll continue another day. If it's becoming active but still not fully awake, I'll just lower the dosage, and we keep going on like that until it's completely active once again." 

Steve nodded. "Yeah, sounds good." 

"While I'm here, I'm going to do your IV, just because I'm really good at it." She said with a smile, bragging. "Nearly no pain. One and done." 

Steve wasn't afraid of needles, but he was definitely not protesting at having Dr. Cho do the honors. 

"Can you do it in my elbow instead of my hand?* Steve asked, just a tiny bit sheepishly. "Easier to draw with your hand free, I mean." 

Dr. Cho's smile grew even wider. "Of course, Captain." 

Around an hour later, with the IV in and pumping him with fluids, antihistamines, and an immune-booster, plus a blood-oxygen bracelet around his wrist, Steve was idly picking at the shitty macaroni they'd delivered for dinner that was making his stomach churn. He was sniffling a lot now, the antihistamines keeping his allergies at bay, but his sinuses were still irritated and determined to make his life hell. 

"You okay dude?" Sam asked as he came back from talking with a few of the nurses.

Steve nodded weakly. 

"You sure, you're looking kinda-"

"I can't eat this." Steve cut him off, and Sam's head tilted slightly to the side in confusion. 

"Why not?" Sam walked over to the side of the bed, looking at the bowl. 

"Nauseous…" Steve admitted quietly. "Used to be nauseated a lot, before the serum. For what seemed like no reason." He shrugged. "Guess it's coming back." 

Sam placed a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'll go talk to the nurses again. See if they can get you anti-nausea meds or something that'll go down easier." 

Steve felt like he was being so annoying right now- needing to be in the hospital, needing Sam to go talk to the nurses, needing Sam to stay with him night and day. 

But he felt awful. Either he had forgotten how bad he'd felt before the serum, or it actually hurt more. 

So he'll be selfish right now. Just this once. 

"Thank you, Sam." 

Sam's lips curved into a gentle smile. . 

"Of course." 

~~~~~~~~

He got put on anti-nausea medication after Sam talked to the nurses, and one of the people at the cafeteria was able to get him some rice and a ginger ale to help settle his stomach even more. 

He began to sketch an apartment building along a skyline, similar to the one outside the window of the hospital room. He just had the basic structure done, no shading or details, when Sam reminded him it was 10pm. 

He laid in bed for a bit, looking out the window and wiping his nose as it began to run in earnest again. 

When he heard Sam snoring softly, asleep in the chair, he was finally able to sleep, the noise confirming in his mind that he wasn't alone, that he was cared for. 

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, after a blood test had confirmed that the serum was waking up but still not fully activated, Steve was multitasking hard.

Sam had gone out to go check in on the others in the compound, which left Steve alone. Breakfast of cereal, milk, and strawberries had arrived just as Steve got his sketchbook out to try and draw simple figures on the balcony of the building he'd drawn last night. His eyes were also watering, so he had to wipe them every now and then. 

He was scooping spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth while blending graphite in his sketchbook and dealing with allergy symptoms. 

He was unstoppable. 

His entire system was messed up by a knock on the open door, moreso announcing their entrance than actually asking permission to come in. 

He spilled some milk on the blanket and dropped his blending stick, but that was okay. 

Because Natasha was here. 

"Hey, Nat." He greeted, closing up his sketchbook. 

"Geez, Rogers, you sound stuffy." She shook her head, and it was then Steve saw the vase in her hands. "I brought you some lilacs. Don't worry, they're fake. Figured real ones wouldn't help, with allergies and all." She shrugged. 

"They're beautiful. Thanks." Steve took the vase from her and placed it on the nightstand, moving his backpack with his art supplies to the floor, leaning up against the bed frame. 

"'course. Sorry I couldn't come sooner, had to decode some of the intel, it's a whole mess." She shook her head again. It seemed to be the only thing she could do at the moment, exhaustion evident by the bags under her eyes "And I have to go soon. Are you doing okay?" 

"I'm fine." He responded, about to reach down to grab his colored pencils from the backpack, but Natasha gripped his wrist in her hand. 

"Nu-uh-huh. What do you need, I'll grab it for you." 

"There's... there should be a box of colored pencils in my backpack. It's a metal box, they're really fancy-" 

"I got it, Steve." She reached in and quickly pulled the tin out, handing it to Steve who put it on top of his sketchbook on his lap. 

"Thanks." He practically croaked out, throat growing sore. "And thanks again for the flowers." 

"My pleasure. Now eat your cereal, old man." She said with a light smirk, and Steve rolled his eyes. 

~~~~~~~

Sam returned a few hours later, once Steve's throat had gotten progressively worse (he could barely even eat the lunch of a sandwich that had been brought to him) and he was coloring in his sketch of the lilac vase. He liked having a real-life object to base his sketches off of, almost like practice for when he had to draw the same object without a reference. 

"We gotta get something of yours into a museum." Sam commented offhandedly as he scrolled through his phone while Steve finished his coloring. "Let people know who the real Steve Rogers is." 

Steve's eyes peeked out from his sketchbook to look at Sam. "Huh?" 

"I mean, without the serum. Without the suit and shield." Sam clarified. "You're a real person with real feelings and hobbies. You're an artist, and you're damn good at it." 

Steve could feel his face reddening into a blush. 

"C'mon, dude. I've told you that a million times. Nat's told you that a million times." Sam listed off, and Steve's expression turned sad. 

"Bucky used to tell me that." He sighed. 

"We're gonna find him." Sam replied instantly, as if it's a reflex from just hearing the name. "Nat's already researching where he could be, once you're out of here we're back on the hunt. I promise." 

Steve hung his head low, idly coloring in the pearly vase. 

It was a promise, sure, but he didn't think it was one that could be held up. 

~~~~~~~~

After dinner, he and Sam played cards using the overbed table. Sam insisted he stay in bed, so he moved the chair next to the bed. 

Sam called it "Uno". Four colors of cards, each with a number or symbol, and you had to place a card of the same color or number/symbol on the discard deck when it was your turn. 

Steve had gotten down to one card so many times, then Sam had called uno before Steve could and he'd have to draw again. 

This single, simple game had been going on for at least twenty minutes. Sam had at least ten cards in his hand, while Steve had two or three on average. 

In truth, the reason Steve hadn't called uno in time was because his throat was absolutely burning. He didn't think it was an infection, just a byproduct of the mucus and coughing of the last twenty-four hours. 

"Are you just against winning? Are you throwing this?" Sam asked playfully after Steve had failed to call uno for the fifth time in a row. 

Steve shook his head while drawing the extra card. 

"...or does it hurt to talk?" Sam questioned, a proud expression written on his face, like he was a detective who'd just solved his most challenging case. 

Steve huffed in response. 

"Ahah!" Sam exclaimed. "I cracked the poker face of Steven Grant Rogers!" 

Steve bit his cheek, then decided to play with Sam a little bit. He remembered the bit of ASL he learned back in the 1920s, when he used to get ear infections so bad his mother feared for his hearing and required he learned another way to communicate if he ended up hard of hearing or deaf. 

He put his cards facedown on the table and hastily signed *You didn't do anything*. 

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Steve thought he'd finally got him, before Sam put his own hand of cards down and quickly signed out *What, you think I don't know A S L*, fingerspelling the A, S and L. 

Steve shook his head. *You've got to be joking*. 

*My sister's hard of hearing. Learned when I was young* Sam signed out with a shrug of his shoulders. 

"Are we having a secret meeting in here?" One of the regular nurses asked from the doorway, causing both Steve and Sam to turn their heads to look at them. 

"His throat hurts. We're doing ASL." Sam said aloud, and the nurse nodded. 

"Fair enough. You're lucky you're here on a Friday, Captain Rogers. The cafeteria makes sundaes for dessert." They said as they grabbed Steve's bowl from the soup they served for dinner. 

Steve's eyes lit up like a kid on their birthday, like having a sundae was the best news ever. It kind of was, considering how bad his throat hurt. Something cold would go well to soothe it. 

"I'll put an order in for banana splits for both of you." The nurse smiled as they headed for the door after grabbing the dish. 

"What, I get one too?" Sam questioned with an exaggerated shocked expression. 

"You've been here 44 hours out of the 48 he's been here. Think you deserve it." They replied with a wink and a wave of their hand, and then they were headed out into the bustling hallway. 

Sam picked his cards up again once they were gone and placed a blue four onto the red four that was already on the pile. 

"Your turn." Sam motioned to Steve's own cards that were still facedown on the table, and Steve picked them up, placed a yellow four on the blue four and managed to sign *one*. 

"You son of a bitch." Sam said, making a disapproving noise while shaking his head slowly. 

~~~~~~~

Steve went back to his apartment building drawing once he and Sam had a sundae-eating contest (Sam won, said it was revenge for Steve winning uno). 

He finished shading the building and adding dimension to the windows, and added a very small amount of yellow on the outside of the moon that was just barely in the frame of the drawing. 

It was nearly 10pm once everything in the drawing was done, minus the details on the four silhouette figures standing out on the balcony. 

He added shoulder-length curly hair to one of the figures, shading with the smallest bit of reddish orange, just so the color was visible. 

He lightly sketched in wide wings in the next, just barely able to be seen. He outlined the wings in a bit of grey, and added a small drone-like creature flying just above the second figure's head. 

On the third, he drew a circular shape onto the figure's back, adding a few more smaller circles within the larger one, with a star inside the smallest circle in the center. He debated for a minute before deciding to add a watercolor palette in the figure's hand, adding bits of colors into it, as if the figure held the entire rainbow in his grasp. 

When he came to the fourth figure, he hesitated. He wasn't really sure what to do with it, what appearance he should show. If he should show the one he remembered, the one he'd spent so much time with, or...the new one. Short or long hair, a hint of silver on the arm or the normal black of a silhouette. 

In the end, he went with the new. The version he wants to get to know, wants to form a bond with. 

Wants to be friends with, the same way he was friends with his past version. 

He put the curtain of soft brunette hair on the figure, with the shine of silver put on the arm. The figure was looking out into the night sky of the drawing, eyes wandering along the stars. 

He was personifying this drawing, and he knew it, but he didn't care. This was something that was becoming important to him, personal in a way his art had not been before. 

This was his ultimate wish. 

He signed the bottom with his usual signature, just as Sam woke up from his small nap. 

"You done?" Sam asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

"Mhm." Steve hummed, glad the hurt in his throat was decreasing so he could respond. 

"Can I see?" Sam questioned, and Steve stilled. Usually he hated others to see his completed works, thought they weren't good enough. But...Sam was technically in this one, so he had a certain right to see it. 

He turned the sketchpad over to Sam, who came over to the side of the bed to get a better look. 

Sam studied the drawing for a few minutes, a tense silence forming. Steve thinks he can practically hear the fluids and medication pumping into his veins, even if he knows it's impossible to. 

After what felt like a long time, probably only five minutes, Sam pursued his lips and asked, "That's us?" 

Steve nodded, fidgeting with the blending stick he was holding in his hand. 

"That's Natasha-" Sam began, placing his finger just above the paper, making sure it wouldn't smudge the art. "And that's me. And that's you. And that's…" He trailed off for a moment. "That's Bucky, isn't it?" 

Steve nodded once again. "This is my dream." He stated quietly. 

"Your dream?"

"My family." 

Sam took a long deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

"It's beautiful, Steve." He swallowed. "Really. We should get a frame for it. Incase it in glass. Show it to Bucky when he comes home." 

Steve's heart skipped a beat at Sam's words. 

Not if he comes home. When he comes home. 

~~~~~~~

Steve slept soundly again that night after Sam began snoring. When he woke up, his throat wasn't sore at all, his sinuses felt better, and the persistent nausea he'd had since the first night had subsided. 

In the morning, the nurse came in for the blood draw. They took it as usual, put a band-aid on where the needle entered, and said they'd look it over. 

Dr. Cho entered his room thirty minutes later. 

"Well, Captain, seems like your serum is back up and running." She reported, dropping a clipboard into Steve's lap. He quickly realized they were discharged forms. 

"I'll start packing." Sam commented, taking his phone charger out of the wall and shoving it into his duffel. 

Dr. Cho turned off the drip and removed the IV and unclasped the blood oxygen bracelet. Steve thanked her and began signing the discharge forms once she left, while Sam packed both his own bag and got together Steve's stuff so it would be easier for him to pack up. 

With the forms signed and bags packed, Sam called Natasha to see if she could come to drive them back to the compound. At the mention of Nat, Steve grabbed the vase of flowers to bring them back. He wanted to put them on his nightstand back in his normal room. 

"Nat said she'll be over in five minutes." Sam said as he hung up the phone. 

Steve's expression morphed into confusion. "Shouldn't it take ten?" 

"Either she's being optimistic or planning on breaking the law." Sam shrugged, slinging both duffel bags over his shoulders. 

"Showoff." Steve commented as he put his backpack on and held the vase with two hands as they exited the hospital room. Steve's muscles were a tiny bit sore. He was used to a heavy workout everyday, his muscles must just be confused or adjusting. 

"Says the guy who lifts fifty pounds weights during team training." Sam gave a playfully scoff. 

They went silent for a moment as they walked, before Steve finally said what had been on his mind this entire time, even before he got de-serumed. "Thanks for everything, Sam. Not just for this, but for everything you've done since I met you. Just...thank you."

Sam shot him a blinding smile and put his hand on Steve's shoulder as a comfort. 

"Anytime, Steve. Anytime."

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like to submit a prompt for me to write, check out the notes of my prompt fills series this fic is in!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cartersleia)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://cartersleia.tumblr.com)


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